Previously your small town girl was being rescued by her good friend Ryan, who hales from a town that's known for it's hamburgers more than it's large size. Oh, right, that's because it's small too.
[As a side note I'd like to share with you that I was going to go to a movie tonight but it doesn't start until 11:45 and I'm not sure I want to drive to the city one more time today. Instead I've opted to sit down with my new mug, filled with hot chocolate, and tell a little more of my story. I know, you love me for it. Or you pity me in my old age for not staying out so late. We'll see which it is. Then again, maybe I will go. Still a half hour to decide!]
Okay, so Ryan picked me up and I started telling him about the guy that was trying to pick me up while I waited for my ride. Of course we found this enormously funny. I also rediscovered the word "fuck" and knowing what I know now, I might have tried to suppress it when it showed up. Instead it plagued my every sentence for the rest of the trip. Another source of amusement. I'll try and spare you the redundant parts.
Anyway, we were driving to the bowling alley where Ryan is part of a Thursday Night league. It might be the only reason I didn't arrive on the later train with Shannon. According to my dad, league night would be a highlight in the map of my life. Or rather, the best time ever! I'm not really sure how my dad would phrase something like that since I seem to have tuned it out, but I remember his excitement about the whole thing.
I can't recall everything we talked about in the car on the way to the bowling alley. We bounced around from bowling, to childhood, to parents, relationships, how I'm a bum during the rest of the week, the way kids are funny, what we might tell high schoolers if we actually thought they'd listen and something about sex because you can't have a conversation in Chicago without sex coming up at least once. I might have made that part up.
We talked through our bowling alley meal, including me having 10 inches cut off my hair and how cool the red highlights were. I'm sure I'm the girliest girl around sometimes. I also mentioned how some 3rd graders pointed out that they were nearly as tall as I am. My Chicago Response (CR) was "And sometimes I want to tell those little fuckers to sit down." I'm pretty sure in real life I just laughed at the kid and made some bad short joke that he was bound to repeat. It's always the boys that point it out too, like they can't wait to be big tall men. The girls sometimes whisper about it, but they don't ever say anything to me. I only bond with the high schoolers when they want to talk about piercings and my new hair cut because it's so cute. Talk about an ego boost, just get your hair chopped off really short and cute and people will make you feel good about yourself wherever you go.
I watched Ryan bowl and must admit I'm impressed, only because his average is at least 100+ higher than mine. He's good. I haven't attempted to bowl in years. Some guy pointed out that Ryan had his lady luck with him gesturing to me. I might have blushed when the guy suggested that I blow him a kiss for good luck. I said I didn't think he needed the luck. What I really meant is if I was to blow anything towards anyone they would get infected with my sick germs and be really unhappy with me for at least the next week. Then again, I learned on the street that sick is obviously sexy.
Oh, and if you think that my experience with the homeless/street people was bad you should check out what happened to Shannon. She arrived at the train station before we were there to pick her up and this woman whose dentures were falling out was following her around trying to get Shan to give her $20 so she could get to the women's shelter. Now while I feel bad for people who are down on their luck, you can't approach someone and ask for money when your scary teeth are going to frighten away your chances. Don't do it.
While Shannon was stuck in the train station wondering where the hell we were Ryan and I were wandering around a shopping center. I think it's called Jewel, but I could be mistaken. Either way it's a lot like our Meijer. And everyone has them; you know the Supermart that's open 24 hours a day, etc. etc. etc. We probably made 14 trips back and forth across the store trying to gather everything we might need for breakfast the next day: milk, eggs, bacon, sausage, orange juice and somehow we ended up with 2 gallons or so of ice cream. You wouldn't think it would take that much time to find those items. Pretty straight forward, but I was tired and sick and in a new place and Ryan had never been to this particular Supermart. And you know what I'm talking about when I say that they aren't all laid out the same. I'm used to the Meijer in Okemos now, but it's not the same as the one on Ann Arbor Saline Rd and the one on Zeeb Rd isn't the same as either of those. I don't know what's wrong with Cooperate Supermart, but they don't care about the poor people who get lost in them. At. All.
Example: We were going to pick up some cold medicine so everyone could sleep peacefully sans jenn's coughing and sniffling. We found the pharmacy. There are all kinds of drugs; everything you could ever need to keep your digestive system functioning perfectly, some sort of vitamins, organic stuff, and more. But are there drugs for anything else? No. No. No. Eventually we found them hanging out on their own behind the allergy medicine. With so many different kinds and no more patience I whined, "Why does this have to be so hard?"
At this point Ryan either found some sympathy for me or he lost his patience and helped me pick something out. Not without, of course, making fun of me for whining about it.
We made it through the check out though, to the car, and to the train station without any more incidents and Shannon didn't have to wait too long. We made it to Ryan's apartment, met Allison, Johnny Bravo, and watched Old School. I've never been so tired as I was that night. I'm sure I missed a lot of the movie because I was zoning out at some point. I had some issues finding the instructions on the cold medicine, but after I figured them out, managed to get the bottle open and indulged my cold, I was out like a light in a matter of minutes. This is despite the shots that were being done a few rooms down. No wonder no one could wake up the next morning. Yikes.
Tomorrow tune in as we wake up late, visit the Field Museum, explore the backrooms, find out who else has a Friday bar and then watch us crash early. Stay tuned if for no other reason than to find out who Johnny Bravo really is!
[and with that I'm done in time to catch the movie, who knew?!]